ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155d)

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing in (Part 155d)

The scoring for this last contest was cumulative. Each player was timed and the cumulative time was added up to see which team was the winner. What I failed to mention in the last post was each participant had to remain blindfolded as they dribbled towards the basket. Then, after three missed shots the blindfold could be removed. Also missing from the original description was the fact that the shoes had to be on the right feet and the uniform had to be on right.

The participants really put on a show for the audience. The women were better at getting the uniform and shoes on but the men dribbled and shot better. To make it fair there were two males and two females on each team and they drew numbers to see what order and who they competed against. Elle drew the last number for the teachers. By her turn my ankle and foot were hurting as bad as it was right after I'd turned it... but I stayed to watch.

With my responsibilities I’d not had a chance to talk with Elle all evening. She hung out with her fellow teachers at one end of the gym while I was all over the place. When she went out to mid court for her turn the teachers were ahead by a little over a minute. Her opponent was a big guy, about 6’3“ or so. One thing I’d noticed was the taller the person, the harder it was to get the shoes tied. Some had tried to do it by bending over and they seemed to struggle. Elle got her uniform on, the right way, and then sat down to tie her shoes. She was off and dribbling her ball before the guy even started trying his. She lost her advantage when she had to shoot... and taking off the blindfold didn’t help all that much. The guy missed all three of his blindfolded shots (only one basket was made this way) but made his first shot which appeared to give the parents team the win. However, the judge at that end noticed that he didn’t have his shoes on the right feet and disqualified him. I’d been the mid court judge with the responsibility of starting each group so wasn’t involved in that decision. I’d kind of hopped on one foot down the court to see Elle and to console her as I thought she was upset that she’d cost her team the win. But, it wasn’t the loosing that had her upset.

We;d left the house at 6pm to deliver Kaye, our youngest, to Elle’s mother. After a short visit we, along with the other kids, headed for school. As it turned out Elle had gotten so caught up in the activities that she hadn’t used the bathroom. She realized it as she waited to compete in the last event while standing at mid court. She ended up leaking but thought she was OK with her combination of dribble panties and a sanitary panty. In retrospect, she probably wouldn’t have had a problem if she hadn’t sat down to tie her shoes. But, she did. It left her with two ‘smiles’ on her butt where she squeezed the pee out around the leg elastics of the sanitary panties. I’d missed it as I was monitoring the time for each. She didn’t know about it until after she’d finished and a female teacher told her.

It was while I was hearing about that when it was announced that her opponent had been disqualified and that the teachers were the winners. They were called out to get their ‘medals’ (sea shells painted gold) but Elle wouldn’t do it. She told me to flag down the kids and that she was headed home, with or without me. She was still wearing the uniform pants as she headed out the back door. I wanted to stay but I knew I’d need her help once I got home. Normally I would have concerned myself with her embarrassment but my ankle and foot hurt too much for me to feel badly for her.

There weren’t many words spoken between us once we arrived home. Elle got the kids to bed and then washed herself up. I took a bunch of aspirin, made up a wrap of ice to put on my ankle and settled into my recliner. Between the ice and getting my foot raised the pain was at least tolerable... tolerable enough to think back on the events of the evening. Pat (the PTA lady) had stated that the monetary goal was at least $250 but since we hadn’t stayed around, didn’t know if we'd made it or not. Another thing on my mind was to find out what Elle and Phyllis had been in such deep conversation about prior to the Olympics. I was hoping Elle would come down stairs so we could talk but she never did. I figured it was because she thought I’d pull out the old ”I told you so...“ as it pertained to her choosing to wear dribble panties instead of a ‘package’. I ended up falling asleep in the chair and stayed there all night, not wanting to crawl up the stairs in the dark.

I spent all day Sunday on the couch with my foot propped up. Elle wasn’t her usual self and I chose not to pursue the events of the previous evening. We did discuss my ankle and my growing fear that it would pose a problem for our upcoming Florida trip. She wanted me to take Monday off as a sick day and to go to see the doctor again. I’d only taken one sick day in the almost three years I’d been at the bank so I had plenty to use. The swelling had gone back down and I attributed that to staying off of it and icing it. I told Elle that going to the doctor was a waste of time and money because all he’d tell me was... to stay off it and to ice it... but I did agree to stay home.

I have to say it was a good decision. Elle warmed up once the kids were off to school. I was happy to see it but didn’t know how to handle it... until about mid morning when she came into the den with another ice wrap... and invited me to ‘visit’. She was still in her robe so I slid my hand between her legs and... it made  my morning! Patience turned out to be a virtue.

To be continued...